


Feigling

by withpractice_ff



Series: Miles Edgeworth is a Complicated Man [3]
Category: Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-11
Updated: 2009-09-11
Packaged: 2017-10-21 10:29:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/224179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withpractice_ff/pseuds/withpractice_ff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miles Edgeworth and Franziska von Karma deal (poorly) with loss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feigling

**December 28th, 8:14pm  
High Prosecutor's Office**

After the verdict is handed down, he's taken back to the detention center for one quick, final round of questioning and an hour or so of paperwork. He's not entirely sure what to do with himself once he's been released, so he heads back to his office, where he pours himself cup after cup of a strong black tea and stares out the window, thoughts running through his head almost faster than he can keep up with them.

When he can put it off no longer, he sighs, puts his empty teacup down on his desk, and reluctantly picks up the phone.

" _What?_ " Franziska snaps in German, picking up on the third ring.

"Manfred von Karma has been found guilty of forgery, obstruction of justice, and murder, among other things," Edgeworth answers in English, his voice shaking almost imperceptibly.

"...Miles?" When he doesn't respond, she barks, "Is this a joke, Miles Edgeworth?"

He continues, "Given the nature of his crimes and his position in the prosecutor's office, I suspect his case will be fast-tracked so as to make an example out of him. He'll be dead within a month."

He can hear her inhale sharply in shock. In a voice barely above a whisper, she asks, "What foolishness is this?"

"He has been forging evidence for perhaps his entire career to ensure his perfect record," he says, and is surprised by how bitter he sounds. "And he murdered Gregory Edgeworth, my father."

Franziska curses passionately in German. The sound of it reminds Edgeworth of times and places he'd rather not think about, so he cuts her off, saying, "If you want to see him, you should still have some time. I'll be making arrangements in Germany for the funeral, unless you have some problem with that."

"Miles," she breathes, still not quite believing him. "Kleiner Bruder..."

"I'll be in touch when I have more information, but I thought you should know. If you have any questions, my secretary will be happy to answer them tomorrow morning," he says, and hangs up.

He pours himself a fresh cup of tea and spends the next several hours listening to the phone ring.

  


* * *

  


 **February 4th, 3:19pm  
Detention Center**

He visits Manfred once, on the day before the execution. Even as he waits, sitting in the cold metal chair and staring through the glass, he doesn't know what he hopes to get out of this.

They regard each other silently. For days he had been rehearsing what he would say to his adoptive father upon their last meeting, but under that hard stare he is reduced again to a frightened child, and the words die in his throat.

When their time is up, Manfred spits at the glass, growling, "Feigling." It is the only word either of them has spoken in the last twenty minutes, and it is the last word Manfred von Karma ever says to his son.

  


* * *

  


 **February 8th, 10:23am  
Manfred von Karma's Grave**

It rains on the day of the funeral, coming down in heavy sheets so the pastor has to shout to be heard. Everything outside of the circle of Edgeworth's umbrella is blurred by the rain, looking not quite real.

He and Franziska are the only attendees--apparently word of von Karma's misdeeds has spread--and she looks striking in head-to-toe black. She will not look at him, and he finds that strangely comforting.

They last saw each other at the execution. She had slapped him hard across the face when she saw him, but her hand found its way into his as they watched the life slowly drain out of the man who had raised them.

He doesn't realize the pastor has finished until the man claps him on the back. The pastor is a kind man, and Edgeworth is thankful for his kindness, but he suddenly, desperately wants the other man away from him. He mumbles something incoherent and turns away, staring out into the cemetery. He can vaguely hear the pastor saying something to Franziska before leaving the pair alone with their father. Edgeworth keeps his back to her, not wanting to intrude.

Eventually Franziska circles around to face him. She looks small and pale, but when he meets her eyes he sees a fierce anger there. She shouts above the rain, "He was an awful, foolish fool of a man. We both know that, and we knew it long before his conviction. But I am a von Karma, and that means something to me, and I intend to hold myself to the standards of the von Karma name, even if our father could not.

"What about you, Miles Edgeworth?"

"I have never been a von Karma," he says, barely loud enough for her to hear.

There is no mistaking the disgust coloring her eyes and twisting her mouth. She says, "You lie to yourself, mein Bruder."

She turns and stalks away, and he watches her go, feeling something black and hopeless growing in his stomach. When she is several feet away from him, she turns to look at him over her shoulder.

"Well, Miles Edgeworth?" she calls. "Aren't you coming?"

  


* * *

  


 **February 8th, 1:41pm  
Glückliches Schwein**

Franziska takes him to a shit-hole bar--a place he's surprised she's heard of, let alone deigned to enter, frankly--and he watches her drink whiskey like it's water while he nurses his gin and tonic. Every time he tries to say something she scowls and reaches for her whip. He is familiar enough with this behavior to know that all he needs to do is wait, so he does.

"I've been coming here for a few months now, when a case closes," she says eventually, her words slightly slurred. "What do you think?"

"I think I'm surprised you have yet to catch an incurable disease."

"I thought you'd like it," she says, grinning drunkenly. "It is nice to have a celebratory pint away from so much foolishness."

"Is that what we're doing now? Celebrating?"

The look she gives him could slice a man in half, and he immediately regrets having said anything. She hisses, "Our father is dead, Miles Edgeworth."

"My father died fifteen years ago," he replies coolly.

A combination of regret and anger plays briefly across Franziska's face before it goes carefully blank--a defense she learned from the man sitting next to her, although neither of them realize it. She says slowly, "My father killed your father fifteen years ago," letting each word roll around her tongue, experimenting with the sound of it.

He nods, regarding her curiously. She closes her eyes, whispers it again to herself, then shakes her head to clear it and says, "My father killed your father fifteen years ago, and then he took you into his home for reasons we can only guess at--fed you, sheltered you, raised you--and then he was your father, too. And you were only too eager to let him mold you in his image."

She slams the rest of her whiskey, and the bartender is immediately ready with another, delivering it to their booth in the back corner of the bar. She slams the new pour as well, then continues, slipping in and out of German, "Do not act as though there is no grief within the vast black sea of emotions Miles Edgeworth is hiding beneath his skin."

"My grief is for Gregory Edgeworth, and for the man I might have been were it not for Manfred von Karma."

She raises her empty glass in a toast. It clinks loudly against his gin and tonic, still half full.

"To Papa, destroying lives both figuratively and literally."

"I think you've had enough to drink."

" _I will tell you what I've had enough of_ ," she spits hotly in German. "I have had enough of you acting so calm, like it is everyday that you discover that your father"--she gives him a look, daring him to argue her terminology --"was an evil, scheming monster who perverted the law and murdered a foolish but decent man."

Edgeworth feels a dangerous anger building inside of him. He says, just barely maintaining his composure, "It is not for you to judge how I cope with these revelations, and it is foolish of you to presume to know what it is that I'm feeling."

She throws her empty glass at the wall behind him, shattering it against the brick. The other two patrons startle, but they keep their eyes on their drinks. The bartender, used to such theatrics from Franziska von Karma, doesn't look up from his magazine. Edgeworth flinches but otherwise doesn't react, also well acquainted with this act.

"I will not be alone in this," she seethes, but there is a subtle desperation in her voice. "I will not be the sole mourner of that wretched man."

But she is.

He doesn't quite have it in him to say as much, so instead he says, quietly, unable to meet her eyes, "I fly back to California tomorrow. If you wish to accompany me--"

"You are a fool and a coward, Miles Edgeworth." she cuts him off, her voice breaking. "I am neither."

She stands and throws a wad of bills on the table, calls him several other vicious names, and storms out of the bar.

Edgeworth takes a slow sip of his drink, trying with all his might to think of nothing, nothing, nothing at all.


End file.
